


Eternal

by PinstripesAndConverse



Category: City of Love: Paris (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Wedding Fluff, wedding ceremony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 13:31:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12705984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinstripesAndConverse/pseuds/PinstripesAndConverse
Summary: Vincent & the MC, the exchange of vows, rings, and promises of love.





	Eternal

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to myglasseshurt/bowbeforemyflippers for the beautiful piece of art to pair with this story! Please see this post for her drawing: https://boughtmywayintopopculture.tumblr.com/post/167427057194/eternal

Sophia heard the hushed chatter outside of the room, the heavy wooden doors more imposing the longer she looked at them. She itched to pace the length of the room but the dress made that difficult. The train wouldn't be bustled until afterwards and she knew they would be standing for a while during the ceremony; quite frankly, she knew her energy would be spent elsewhere and pacing just wasn't worth it.

There were no doubts in her mind; doubt was not something she knew when it came to  _him_.

_Kat should be here...this feels surreal without her,_ she thought, willing away the tears. She would be damned if she ruined the hard work Louise had done on her eyes before the ceremony, the editor would never forgive her.

The silence was broken by a knock on the door; Eugene, signaling they were ready whenever she was.

She stood and fixed her train, gathering the flowers she had set next to her in the velvet fabric. She fixed her hair so it fell how she wanted it to; she opted for something simple, her hair down, falling in soft waves rather than a complicated updo. Too many bobby pins and hairspray for her liking. She didn't wear a veil either, feeling as though it would either hide her from him and be an inconvenience. Sophia swallowed and nodded to herself, taking a final glance in the full length mirror before joining Eugene.

The valet gave a word of encouragement (not that she needed it), before briskly walking ahead of her. He was charged with making sure everything ran on schedule; he would join the crowd after signaling for the piano to start.

Sophia followed the cadence of the music, most of her form hidden by the decor of the balustrade as she went.

_Just like you practiced_ , she thought, running a finger over the platinum ring tied to her bouquet briefly. Without pockets, it was the easiest way to carry his band.

They had no bridal party, no ring bearers. Both felt it would be disrespectful to replace the people they couldn't have in those important roles. She sometimes imagined picking out dresses with Kat, or pictured Vincent and Paul going over suit details, two things that never happened. This day was important to both of them, but a pall hung between them, silent acknowledgement that they would never get their exact wishes. It was as perfect as life allowed it to be.

They were technically already married, having signed the paperwork some days ago.

She was walking herself down the aisle, something her family hadn't been thrilled with, but they understood. She wanted it to be just them, she didn't need opulence or ceremony but he was her opposite in many things. The rumors would swirl if they eloped, regardless of the years of their established relationship.

She saw the decorations yesterday but when paired with the crowd, they looked even more stunning than they had before. Flowers lined the grand staircase of Opera Garnier, the same kind she carried between her manicured hands, the entire room seemingly filled with their scent, but not overwhelmingly so.

Their recessional would lead them into the Grand Foyer, behind the landing on which the guests were seated, where they would meet with friends and family and take photos; they had chosen winter for their date and were confined indoors. The reception would take place in the same space once they finished, with cocktail hour happening at the on-site restaurant.

The venue itself was meaningful for both of them but served quite practically as well.

Somehow, despite knowing her role, she felt  _overdressed_. Her white gown had off-the-shoulder sleeves of Venetian lace, the pattern creating a modest cover over her bust before joining with the satin, continuing its patterning until it met the large skirt, fanning around her in a sea of satin and tulle. The train bore embroidery work in a pattern reminiscent of the lace, a subtle shimmer of silver when the light hit it just so.

As soon as she had tried it on, she knew it was the one she wanted. It took hours and several appointments to find but it was one of the few moments in her life where it just  _felt_  right.

Like now.

She hadn't pictured it this extravagant, of course, nor had she ever imagined herself in Paris, but nothing else would have been more fitting.

She willed herself to focus her on the present, on walking, on how the flower stems felt between her hands and the cadence of the music. Her thumb ran over the platinum metal band again, for comfort. Sophia didn't allow herself to  _look_  at him until she reached the staircase and descended, her skirts rustling softly against the marble floor.

She had seen him caught off guard more times than she could count, more than he probably ever allowed anyone to see. His green eyes were wide, observing her, etching this moment into his memory. He recovered quickly and adjusted his stance slightly as a smile, the kind, gentle smile she only ever saw around her, graced his lips. She caught the tiniest amount of disbelief, as if he couldn't quite bring himself to believe any of this was real.

He always looked good in a suit but within this context, he was stunning, more refined and handsome than usual. He stood tall, his hands clasped behind him as they often were, but this wasn't his usual posturing. It exuded more certainty than confidence.

Their eye contact was broken for only a moment, long enough to arrange her train so the dress didn't catch where it shouldn't. She cast her eyes back to Vincent, overwhelmed again, but she couldn't help but smile.

"Hi," Sophia mouthed in attempt to ease her nerves.

"Hello," she saw his lips form a subtle smirk before the smile replaced it again. "Nervous?"

"No," she said silently, shaking her head slightly. A slight fib, she was a little nervous, if only because of the crowd. "You?"

Family and friends were gathered on the landing below, and some in the alcoves of the balcony she just came from. She felt like an actress on a stage; ironic considering their venue, but she had never had so many eyes on  _her_. On  _them._  She knew he knew she was lying, putting on a strong front. She also knew, however, he wouldn't point it out to her. He'd tease her later, perhaps, but not now.

"I have you. Why would I be?"

She felt her cheeks grow warm. Despite the slight smugness in his whispered words, she knew they were sincere, honest.

The judge cleared her throat and began after the music ended, her voice carrying without much aid throughout the space. Neither of them wanted a religious ceremony; neither of them had beliefs strong enough to warrant it. Neither had readings they wanted to include, choosing to work them into their vows instead.

They had prepared their own vows, both finding the idea of traditional promises boring for different reasons. Vincent was traditional in his own ways but he was never a man without words. Relying on the typical vows wouldn't offer either of them enough to encapsulate their emotions for one another or capture their relationship perfectly.

Vincent began his with what both of them were sure was on the minds of many in the audience. "I don't think either of us expected this when we first met, when we walked these halls during your first stay in Paris."

He had chosen to recite a stanza from an Oscar Wilde poem, one he shared with her so long ago. She knew he had other favorite poets, other authors, but Wilde had a special place for both of them, the fateful night the riddle was finally cracked and the chase began.

"But surely unto Thee mine eyes did show," he recited from memory, his deep voice betraying a hint of emotion. He was too well-practiced for anything stronger. But she didn't more than that, his eyes conveying what his tone couldn't, not in front of so many. "Why I am silent, and my lute unstrung; Else it were better we should part, and go, Thou to some lips of sweeter melody, And I to nurse the barren memory Of unkissed kisses, and songs never sung."

He didn't have an inability to speak his love, but she knew being vocal, being  _open_  about certain emotions wasn't easy for him. He had closed himself off for years, wanting to avoid the pain being close to people could bring. Paul's death devastated him and he never wanted to feel that again.

"As loquacious as I am, I know even words fail me when it comes to you and the joy you bring me. But you will never stop being a marvel to me and know that you will always find my love in other things, in other places. There will never be a day I gaze at you without admiration, without a love I cannot begin to even define."

He promised loyalty, happiness, and his love, to continue their tradition of challenging each other to become the best version of themselves. "I promise you the world, as I have so many times. You need only ask for it."

Sophia smiled softly, a small laugh escaping her lips. "I only need you, I love you," she mouthed.

Her vows involved a story of their meeting, how she was looking for answers and left with more questions and an invitation to the opera. Their souls became tangled with one another, never to be truly separated.

She continued on, saying their supposed final parting was not a goodbye.

She  _knew_ he would understand which night she meant without bringing up unnecessary details. His arrest was publicly well-known, his actions forgiven all those years ago by ultimately helping to save Paris. She watched him for a moment, her hand trembling but her eyes fierce, determined to finish her words before tears could escape further. "I dare to say that you would never settle for something so banal and dull."

Was it even possible for that much emotion to display in a pair of eyes? She wasn't even sure if she had ever seen such intensity in his peridot gaze before, his mask never slipping except for where he let it, where she knew to look.

"You, my love, are never dull." He was incapable of dullness, both of mind and of action, forever keeping people guessing.

She said nothing could tear them apart when the worst had brought them together in the first place. Sophia made promise after promise of friendship and fidelity, love and happiness, and everything in between.

Her voice cracked only once but she knew she would have to redo her make-up before the reception. The words were not the cause of her tears; it was Vincent mouthing "I love you so much," that undid her resolve to say her vows without this knot in her chest tightening as it now did.

Her "I do" came out softer than she wanted it to, not trusting her voice to crack again as they exchanged rings. His band slipping out of its ribbon easily before she passed her flowers to the judge for a moment. Her band was fairly plain, save the elaborate pattern carved into the platinum, offsetting the engagement ring, a princess cut diamond set between two smaller ones. It sat perfectly underneath the larger ring. She always marveled at how, despite the difference in their hand size, their fingers always seemed to fit perfectly into one another's. Sophia slid the ring over his knuckle after he murmured, "I do,", her free hand taking her flowers, her other hand clasped in his.

The judge gave her final words in closing of the ceremony, pronouncing them married, and to seal their vows with a kiss.

Vincent's free hand reached up to cup her cheek, their kiss soft, chaste but not without the passion she was so familiar with. He pulled away, whispering, "I love you," and squeezing her hand gently; his voice soft and the tone reserved only for those moments when they were truly alone. Sophia smiled, turning her head away from the crowd to murmur back, "I love you too," before she stood on her tiptoes, capturing his lips again quickly.

He could have the last word later.

Their hands parted as Vincent wrapped his arms around her, her back to the staircase and the crowd. The applause was louder than she anticipated, the acoustics of the hall carrying the sound throughout the space. She heard Esteban barking among the applause and cheers and laughed. She threw her flowers over her shoulder to wrap her arms around Vincent's neck to kiss him a final time.

Both of them turned to see Esteban leap from Eugene's arms and grab her flowers, his curled tail wagging happily.

Sophia laughed, casting a glance at Vincent when she heard his deep chuckle, his eyes fixed on his canine soulmate for a moment before he looked at her and offered his elbow. They descended the stairs and walked up the aisle, their friends and family still cheering and applauding.

Their first trip to the opera house was as adversaries, learning about the other's motives and thoughts and actions. Sophia was sure this wouldn't be their final visit here (he loved theatre far too much, after all), and she turned and looked at the man she could now call her husband, she knew that, just like it had years prior, their exit would mean the start of a new adventure for them.


End file.
